


Klein Rood

by Bidawee



Series: if you go down in the woods today (fantasy au) [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Captivity, Fantasy, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Injuries, No Romance, No Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Red Riding Hood Elements, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14978648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bidawee/pseuds/Bidawee
Summary: “And the wolf said, ‘You know, my dear, it isn't safe for a human to walk through these woods alone."





	Klein Rood

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short and sweet entry because I got the idea in the dead of night and it refused to leave me. Not so romantically inclined but I tried to write it like I would a fairytale so very flowery language.  
> The rape/noncon elements tag concerns a character being tricked into going to a second location and then being made to stay without their consent. There is no sexual content.

His mother had instructed him not to stray from the path.

She loaded his basket and knapsack with wine, cake, and a few pastries from the local bakery befitting of a sickly patient like his brother. Because his grandmother had called for rain, the dew from that morning’s vastly dropping temperatures only just sliding off clover leaves, he dressed himself up in his signature velvet hood and high, closed-toe leather boots that could withstand a trudge through the mud. He’d been sure to kiss his mother goodbye on the cheek before he departed, with the promise of relaying a message when he returned.

“In two sunrises I will be home. Tell father I wish him well when you see him again.” And once appeased by her telling smile, pulled open the wooden door to elope. The local ginger cat, whom his brother, Jeff, had so affectionately named Mr Samuelson after the local pastor during his employment in Etobicoke, sunbathed out beside the window sill, meowing for food when he took note of Connor’s presence. He lacked the necessary means to do so, hoping the apology pets he gave would suffice until his next meal time. His mother would surely hear Samuelson’ cries and lay out some fish his father caught until he returned to pay his dues.

He set out on the backroads that took him to the path, a few crude wooden posts declaring the dangers and warnings of going in alone, or straying. All of them depicting wolves, ogres, or any and all sorts of monsters and beasts talked about women’s knitting circles. Connor had heard the tales time and time again, passed down from generation to generation. It wasn’t fear that held him back this time, just anticipation. Jeff’s condition wouldn't improve anytime soon, if the letter the courier delivered was any indication. He just hoped he would arrive on time that he’d be both conscious and aware enough to hold a conversation.

It was morning when he departed, but by mid-afternoon when the soreness of his feet had taken hold and he was through his lunch rations. The road was winding, almost never-ending. Once or twice a deer would cross the road or the fauna would twitch because some various bug horde was storming through. It was enough to keep him walking without getting distracted, but did little to relieve his boredom.

Night fell and the mosquitoes rose from their slumber, a few decadent fireflies dancing around the edges of the path, tempting fate. Prey slumbered, but predators roamed free, and outside the confines of the path the trees bordered their territory, the brambles and thorns the only protection in lieu of a fence. He moved warily, looking over his shoulder when he suspected he was being followed. The night heat seeped into his clothes until he’d broken out in a mild sweat, tied over with suspense.

After he’d walked some distance, there was a rustling in the undergrowth just barely noticeable in the low light. Connor wasn’t one to stop and investigate, and ushered his pace quicker despite the blisters rubbing in at the back of his heel. A background growl trumpeted aloud, and his steps continued, faster. He pushed himself, even without the energy there because of a day’s journey, hoping it would make a difference.

He swore he could hear steps and his breathing got laboured. He secured the bag around his shoulder with one hand and broke out into a light jog, then a sprint, and tried not to think about how the thorned hedges scurried to his right.

Up ahead, there was a distinct beech tree that careened upwards, the distance far enough from the ground that he could clamber up and give him some peace of mind. The grevious strain on his body was aching, the run severing his composure with each step. Being alert at all times was doing serious harm to his mental health, let alone physical.

Before he could reach the trunk, a shape erupted from the ferns to his right. Large and imposing, the eyes glowed a sickening amber that struck fear into Connor’s core. The fur was spiked, a dark red colour, back muscles bunched up into handfuls that quivered as the creature growled. The teeth were a luminous sheen that refracted the moon’s light in striped white lines that made him flinch.

A real, living, breathing wolf.

Survival instincts taking precedence, he leapt out of bounds and knocked low branches out of the way to pass through. The undergrowth bit at his knees where the skin was uncovered, boots kicking up dirt as he flew in a frenzy through the woodland’s many limbs. Behind him, the snarls were just as pronounced as they were before, if not more because of how his ears were practically moving around to try and judge where the wolf was.

The ground flattened down without warning, and his lack of balance sent him tumbling down the ravine. He rolled, face coming into contact with every living organism under the sun, as he pulled his knees up to limit the damage.

Thorns ravaged his side as he tumbled forward more, the oncoming bustle from a river drowning out the wolves movements. Unfortunately, the river presented another, more wet, problem. One that soaked him through his shirt and wrenched his ankle back until he screamed.

Mid-roll, he was captured and pinched and pulled by the current, foot lodged behind him. The bubbling brook teethed at his ankle, a foreclosure in the rocky shield big enough to ensnare his lower half. All the tugging in the world couldn't obscure the gap, only permeate the skin with shaky red streaks as the friction from the rock tore at him. His sloppy choking noises rang hollow, the stream’s own tempo pulsing overtop his terrified sobs. The slush freezing up his brain solidified into rock until he couldn’t think, just run on jagged instincts screaming at him to over analyze every cricket hop in hopes it would reveal the location of his pursuer.

Adrenaline was running on low supply, his frantic pulling only furthering exhausting him. His eyes were rheumy, red-rimmed most likely, and the blur of his vision only served to incapacitate him more. His trapped leg kept twitching, in the hopes that one tug would serve to free him. To no avail.

Without the ability to scream for help, it was a lost cause being out so late and having strayed from the path. The childish wildflowers swaying in front of him and his predicament were taunting him, as if to cement just how powerless he was. He didn’t even have the strength to pluck them from the soil or try to grip the edge of a boulder and pull himself out.

He was at his wits end when he heard a throat clear a bit aways off from him. His muscles spasmed out in response, a gasp clenched out through his teeth as his eyes acquired a glimpse of another man standing at the foot of the river. He was well distinguished, easy to place against the murky hues of the riverbed and the subsequent forest backdrop. After all, his bright red hair much like Connor’s was nothing that could be found in nature, especially at this time of night.

“Hello?” he called out, one arm lunging in the man’s direction. “Can you help me?” The panic could not be erased from his voice; the tingling that stretched from his arms all the way to his neck rendering him immobile in every sense of the word. It was like sinking in quicksand.

The strange man said nothing, and for a doting second Connor believed he would take in his plight and depart, willing it none of his business. Thankfully, if that thought did cross the stranger’s mind, he looked past it and made a few advances in his direction.

“Oh thank Jesus,” Connor murmured under his breath as the man drew closer. “Thank you,” he pronounced loudly. The man stared down, taking in the trapped leg and body in disarray, package and numerous baggage damp from the up-splash of the brook.

The stranger was quick to hesitate, but then also quick to relinquish control and kneel before Connor so that his hands could instil themselves around Connor’s waist for excess leverage. He grunted once, leaning back on his heels as Connor leaned forward to best help with his efforts. Not once did the stranger make an attempt to talk.

The push and pull from the act was straining the already bone-tired Connor, to the point where the light in his eyes did flicker, eyelids pulling down to shut his world out into a pitch black darkness. The least he could say was that the man was making some discernible progress.

“You’re in deep,” the man spoke, finally breaking his vow of silence as he surveyed the damage. Connor nodded to himself.

“I know, you’re doing so well.” Connor steadied himself, keeping an eye on the strange man as both hands curled around the muscles in your shoulders. “Your arms are befitting of a hunter, I see. That explains it.”

“The woods are bountiful,” the man spoke deeply, another heft finally tearing Connor’s foot free. “They are as beautiful as they are dangerous. You know, it isn’t safe for a human to walk through these woods alone.”

“I know. A wolf spooked me and chased me off the path. I know of the dangers. But that does not explain your appearance, sir. Surely, the same rules apply to you.”

“My family and I have lived in these woods for generations. I know it like a childhood home. Nothing in these woods are scarier than me,” he affirmed. The absolute size of him, unlike any of the village natives, further backed his statement. In recent memory, he couldn’t remember the tongue of the town citing a family of hunters, more so ones that used no equipment or trappings, but he wasn’t about to look a gifted horse in the mouth.

“Thank goodness, I thought for sure I’d be eaten. I appreciate the help, for what it’s worth.” He tried putting weight on his ankle, but it crumpled under the stress of his upper body. He folded in like a paper fan, only mercilessly captured in time by the stranger as two-toned arms wormed around his chest and hoisted him up. The momentary surprise was overpowering, enough so that he needed the man’s secondary presence to remain upright on his good leg.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he confessed, though a press of his foot revealed the unfortunate truth. It garnered another worried look over his shoulder.

“You wouldn't have happened to see a wolf in this neck of the woods?” The man’s brow creased, but he ultimately did nothing. He was worried for his well being, but the stranger was no afterthought. No spear could conquer the night of a hungry wolf.

“Wolves live here, to not see one would be an anomaly. But speaking in the present, no. Off the path, it's more of a possibility,” he said, which did nothing to bandage Connor’s fears. If anything, the fear was amplified by the strangeness of the foliage and greenery, each foreign and digging into his conscience. The ravine had covered his tracks, making it impossible to retrace his steps and return back to the safety--or lack thereof--of the stone and dirt path.

He could ask, but it was out of the realm of possibility for him to continue his trek with his ankle in such a state. He could barely place the heel flat on the ground, let alone take more than a few steps at a time. Evaluating his choices--including his own embarrassment--he turned to the stranger again.

“You mentioned that you live here, by chance are you close by? I was originally on route to meet my ailing brother but, considering the circumstances, I won’t be able to make the journey alone. I don’t want to impose, but I’m worried about my safety out here.” He tugged at his coin purse, located on his hip. “I can compensate your efforts.”

The stranger’s head tilted to the side, shoulders hunching up. “You fancy my company? I can’t say I’ve met many a traveller that would ask,” he said, voice guarded.

“Normally I wouldn’t, but I’m desperate. Especially with the wolf nearby. It would only be for a night, and then you could steer me in the direction of the path and I would be out of your hair.” He gestured with his hands in the direction he’d come from, hoping the man could take the hint. “I’m Connor, by the way. I come from Etobicoke, a bit aways off.”

“Frederik, is what my mother called me,” the man replied in tune, but the name left his tongue in warbled fashion, like he was testing how it sounded. “And I don’t see why not, if you are so desperate. But I warn you, it’s not fit for someone like you. I fear you will regret your decision.”

“Of course not, and I am in no position to judge. I lived in a stable for a week when our crops turned to dust, so I know what it’s like to be at rock bottom. Please. I beg of you, and I promise I will follow any of your orders. Just for the night.”

“So long as you’re courteous, then I suppose it’s alright. Here, let me.” He walked up to Connor and threw his arm over one shoulder to take the worst of the pain from Connor. He navigated them through the brook, through patches of brambles and blackberries

The smell was the first thing to hit Connor, fresh and courteous, like something out a novel. It was more present here with how the greenery sprouted out from every crevice, the river knowing no bounds and swerving in and out of the rock formations and tree stumps. A few late-night birds chirped amongst themselves took flight as they traversed the dense landscape.

“It’s nice to meet a fellow hunter. I can’t say I take the deep woods as a pleasure point, but it does seem rich in game,” Connor started, hoping a conversation would relieve the neck-deep tension they were stuck in.

Frederik imposed a “For someone so dainty, I wouldn’t take you for a hunter. I was wondering where someone like you would be going so late in the evening.”

“I’m on my way to see my brother. He’s not been well recently, so my mother asked for me to bring him a parcel to lift his spirits. Unfortunately, he moved for work-related purposes, lumber, a few months today actually. The path is the only connecting route, and we cannot afford a carriage, so I assumed I could make the walk and be there by midnight.”

“You won’t get anywhere walking in the woods so late. You underestimated the size of your journey. It could have proved fatal.”

“Then I suppose I’m lucky I ran into you then,” Connor replied, nudging the man with his shoulder. Frederik looked on in confusion before resuming his walk, puzzling Connor.

“Yes,” Frederik said. “You’ll not meet anyone that knows the trees here better. With all the beautiful flowers, trees, and bushes. We need to go a bit deeper, to find my place.”

“Just lead the way,” Connor said, smiling up at him. A deeper inkling was beginning to get suspicious though, of the man’s intentions. He had made no move to claim the monetary compensation or name another price on his generosity. He severely doubted it was out of the kindness of his heart.

The forest gave way to taller, more stable trees. The foliage increased in size until it was a struggle to trample them, enough so that when they reached a tree downed by lightning Frederik had to abandon Connor to jump up and then hoist him over because it was too large of a challenge. He could be more grateful for the man’s size; it made navigating and skirting around the forest easy. He could put his worries to rest and simply observe his surroundings without fear for himself.

Frederik was kind, surely, but very quiet. He wasn’t one to start conversations, and continued his walk with a brisk set of confidence that didn’t belong in a forest like this. The trees were closing in from above, the stars choked out by the leafy blanket and dampening the dappled light falling aimlessly onto the forest floor. Owls hooted from their oaken perches, watching the two stumble through the trees and bushes checkering the hillside and beyond.

He was out of breath when they reached another set of the rocky shield, wherein the ground erupted in boulders and sky-high perches. It was getting harder to walk, even with assistance, and as the woods closed in behind them he realizes they were headed deeper.

“Are you sure we are headed in the right direction?” he panted into the man’s shoulder, one hand caressing the state of his ankle as he took cautious little steps forward.

“Yes, my home is just up ahead.” The familiarity from his tone of voice was gone, and in its wake, an ominous growl that tore up Connor’s defences. He didn’t know what to think or feel; if he should turn back and thank the stranger and wander aimlessly back or hope he would be led to civilization. After all, there was no guarantee winging it would grant any freedom of sorts.

He was prisoner to the trees and there was nothing he could do to change that. He had to put on a brave face and drag his injured leg along until he was sure he had regained some of his courage. Luckily, he could hide the worst of it by sticking his nose onto Frederik’s clothed bicep.

The sounds of the forest slowed to a crawl, the many birds and their song dampening with each step they took. The eyes from outside continued to be just as intimidating as they were prior, if not more because of how they seemed to multiply. This was not a location for prey to prosper; it was the home of the beasts and animals that stalked under the cover of night. Unnerving was all he could use to describe it, because it made it easier to think. Easier to understand that the hands gripping his waist and keeping an arm over his shoulder were anything but kind in their efforts.

“Here we are,” Frederik said into his ear, after a few more minutes of walking. Connor had grown used to the friction from rubbing against his furs, so much so that he’d been leaning in and letting the man take most of his weight. He’d voiced no complaints when Connor had chosen to do so, after all. When his eyes peeled away, he noticed they’d stopped at the mouth of a clearing.

The trees were all but inching away from a rise in the ground. There, standing in all its glory, was a large and imposing cave system, with several smaller units freckled down the formation and back into the forest where the clearing ended. Without a doubt, this was off-limits for humans. Just the ambience of the area, combined with the thick stench of death swirling at the foot of his nostrils, made him inch away.

“I don’t understand,” he said, even though he was growing fairly sure. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on its own accord, the urge to throw his equipment down and made a desperate run for help almost overpowering. Frederik must have felt him tense up, because a hand had seized his left wrist, clawed fingernails making half-moon indents in his pale skin.

“I brought you to my home, as you’d asked. It would be rude for you not to come in.” The hand clasped around his wrist slowed to a petting motion. Connor’s mouth turned dry in seconds, his heart pulsing with unintended palpitations.

“You live in a cave, like some barbaric--”

“Animal? Why, I hate to be the bringer of bad news but, it’s unwise to trust complete strangers you come across in the forest. Who’s to say what we really embody, my dearest.”

“Let me go,” he said, too afraid to even try resisting. His muscles were so tense they were impossible to move even a few inches.

“You asked to stay the night, and I interrupted my hunt to bring you here to do so. You’d be wise to not try my patience. I’m not known for it.” Nausea swirling in his belly, Connor obeyed out of an instinct for self-preservation he hadn’t coined until that very minute.

His legs were trembling with the first few steps he took, ankle still tender and hard to use especially so that Frederik had left him to walk on his own. The ground was hefting up leading into the cave’s stomach, the terrain unstable with numerous rocks clambering down the slope. Frederik shadowed his every movement, blocking any escape attempts that crossed his mind.

Gingerly, he stepped up the rocks and debris until he’d finally felt the inward gust of air bringing clouds of dust and smoke up his way, signalling his arrival inside. His saliva was thick, lodged in the back of his throat as he took a few cautious steps inside, enough to justify a proper introduction to his surroundings. Though that came with a guess, because without daylight it was near impossible to pick out a particular section of the cave without stumbling in blind.

The one constant was the nest, constructed on a ledge in the back that was both high and wide enough to house five full grown humans. It also meant the moon’s pale luminance could wash over, saturating the browns and greens until they were a sickly grey.

From where he stood, Connor could see that the nest was lined with fresh honeysuckle and various animal furs, all of which he imagined were brutally slaughtered. Still, it was the softest place in the cave, the only relent from the brutish texture of the rock and soil. The ground was well-loved, trodden and paced over until it was flat with bones and the like lingering around. Regardless, the all-encompassing weight of the situation made him feel claustrophobic.

Frederik stared at Connor with his beady little eyes, hair like fire as he stalked around his opponent and the circle of furs. The weak moonlight highlighted his muscles and acute broadness, each straining artery a betrayal of the strength the man-beast, harnessed. He could crush Connor’s head between both his hands should he choose, or worse, take the form of the wolf he channelled and tear his throat out using his front teeth. Choke on his entails and feast until his hunger was quenched.

But he didn’t, despite how easy it may have been. He nudged Connor into the nest with his bare foot and then leapt down until he was making decent strides outside of the rock formation. Connor’s back straightened as he fought to keep a single eye on the predator.

“Where are you going?” he could stop himself from asking, because while the man's presence was more than intimidating, more so was the thought of being abandoned on death’s doorstep. Left to fend for himself against the elements in the beast’s stronghold like some kind of savage.

“I must hunt before morning. My would-be meal proved useful otherwise.” Frederik tugged at the furs crisscrossing his shoulder, the reddish tint glinting like freshly spilt blood.

“You can’t leave me here!” he choked out, voice watery. “I’ll run.”

"You can't make it out on foot. Be warned that if I'm not with you there will be other creatures that might like a bite of you,” he threatened. Connor gulped, shrinking back on the animal furs as the beast departed with measured strides.

"You'll be safe as long as you stay where you are. Nothing in this wood would dare enter the king of the forest’s lair.”

**Author's Note:**

> please come yell and talk to me at @cursivecherrypicking on tumblr where art, snippets from future stories, and fic talk are all available. the ask box is finally open so come give me new ideas or help me expand on pre-existing universes!


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